Dad once asked me “Son, how do u know if a condom leaked and your life is in peril?”. I was dumbfounded. No, not because the fact that this was asked by my own father, but because I was still quite young in age. How the hell would I know anything about condoms? I was only 15 at that time, questions like that would have been considered absurd to my standard…

So I replied him “How would I know lah??”

He then quipped “I just have this idea… you know… just wear it and apply some medicated oil on the condom. If you feel hot or something, then you’ll know, it’s leaking.” And then he laughed like a retard.

And then for some reason, I laughed along too, and when I managed to recover, I then asked him “What about the girl lah?”

“Who gives a damn about the girl? hahah” And we laughed even harder, like shitheads.

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My mom and dad were arguing about gender importance in a family.

“Old fart … If there weren’t women in this world, there will be no pants for you to wear. You should be grateful that we’re here to sew your damn pants” My mom launched an attack.

“If there were only guys in this world, who needs to wear pants lah?” my dad then cackled like a hyena.

The relationship between me and my father was very unique. We spoke to each other like buddies and there was no barrier between us. Although he did not spend much time with me, but time spent being with him was never at all dull. It was always full of laughter and fun.

Some light moments with my dad…
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My dad’s a fan of martial art. When he was young, he was an active member of JingWu and also an alleged disciple of Muay-Thai (but I’m pretty sure he didn’t master all of them).

There was once he told me that he could break bricks with his bare hands and also perform a 180 deg split with his legs without problem, but I never believed in him. I had asked him to prove those claims many times but he told me that he only could do it when he was younger, and the only existing photograph showing him doing the ’split’ was lost. Yeah right.

Besides that, he also gave me a lot of philosophical advices and insights, something about martial arts and its stupid ‘chi’ thing. Amongst the most absurd of the lot, was the ‘chi’ breathing technique. He told me that the breathing technique was the key element in keeping our body at its optimal state. It goes like this - breathe in deeply, hold and release the air from our lungs slowly and steadily. (that was how I was made to understand). It was stupid alright.

One day (I was 8 at that time), my father insisted me to do the breathing technique or he’d ground me - just because he wanted me to try it out so much. I was left with no choice but to do it - I kinda stood outside of my grandma’s house, and did the breathing exercise at the veranda.

Halfway through, my favorite Ultraman show suddenly came on air (I knew that because the neighbor’s kids were blasting the TV so freaking loud). I immediately stopped the exercise and skedaddled over to my neighbor’s place (it was a coffee shop) and watch the show with the kids.

I would watch the show till it was over, and snuck back home and continued the stupid breathing exercise (my father wasn’t aware that I had been to the neighbor’s place). A short while later, there was this Indian road-sweeper bloke strolling past where I was… and saw me doing the breathing exercise. The guy then snickered, and snidely remarked “Wah …. Ultraman aah? Heheheh”. He then flashed me the Ultraman cross-hand sign that was used to zap the daylights out from monster villains.

It embarrassing. I mean, I wasn’t one of those stupid kids that were so crazy about Ultraman. I was just doing the martial arts breathing technique that was suppose to regulate my ‘chi’. I had never felt so insulted as a kid before.

Unable to contain the humiliation, I then fled the scene and dive back inside the house, and swore on my life to never to do that stupid breathing technique ever again. Fuck ‘chi’. After that day, my father never mentioned anything about breathing exercise to me again - as if he knew about the Ultraman incident.

Last week, before my father went unconscious, I had a few final words with him. I told him that he need not to worry about anything anymore, because we can definitely take care of ourselves and I told him to never wait for us. And he did that a week later.

During the wake, one of my father’s closest friend asked - why are there so few of his friends showing up? Did I contact them about my father’s passing or advertise any obituary in the local newspaper?

I replied him - my father wanted his funeral to be simple and does not want his friends to feel mourn for his passing. The friend nodded. I also told him, my father’s closest friends were all already there for him - when he was down and ill.

But he didn’t tell me how he wanted his funeral to be done. He only told me about a late friend of his - how he had admired him for having everything done so modestly. So, based on his remarks and desire for a modest wake, I arranged for him to have a simple and modest funeral. The way how a real Buddhist would.

But I am glad that he finally left his diseased body for good, and suffered no more. It was our fate to be father and son, and it has been a pleasure to meet him in this life. If there is indeed such thing as afterlife, I definitely would want to meet him again and shake this man’s hand, and then greet him - “Hi again… old friend” and then we’d sit down together to have a really long chat.

My father’s suffering finally ended. He passed away peacefully yesterday (3.55pm Sunday 19 Oct). My blog will be on hiatus for the next few days for his wake and funeral proceedings.

Yesterday, I spent some time by my dad’s death bed with the rest of my family. It was a sad event. It felt as if everyone was getting together to bid him a final farewell. Dad was very groggy from his advanced stage of illness, but still, he confessed a lot of his worries and his fears to all of us. This was the first time I’ve ever seen him doing that.

I can imagine his feelings right now - when he learns about his impending death. There would be so many bitter regrets and sweet memories to think about. And the sad part of it would definitely be - to learn that he won’t be able to achieve certain objectives in his life. Something like, to know how would his grandchild looks like… or how big our family will grow… how successful his son is, will he ever achieve greater things in life…

He’ll never get to know all that.

He kept staring into blank space, wandering off in deep trance of thoughts whenever I talked to him. It seems like he couldn’t hold enough energy to even put an iota of concentration to listen. I have seen this kind of symptoms before, that was when my grandma was terminally ill a few months back. This definitely was not a good sign.

And for the first time in my life, I spoon-fed my father his meal. I never thought I could be doing this after all these years of so many conflicts between us. For the record, he has never spoon-fed me before. And how I yearned for a fatherly love back then… and it’s definitely not fair for him to check out from this life so early. I have never really known how it felt like to have a complete family… and by looking at his condition like this, I know I never will. Not in this life of mine.

I’m not sure how this thing will all turn out to be in the end for him and me. I’m having insomnia and my migraine is back.